


Savior complex

by Apuzzlingprince



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Court of Owls, M/M, Not canon-compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 20:12:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10951869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apuzzlingprince/pseuds/Apuzzlingprince
Summary: The Court of Owls is overworking Ed. Jim notices and feels compelled to do something about it.





	Savior complex

Edward was looking tired these days. What exactly the Court was subjecting him to, Jim didn’t know; he just knew the more time Ed spent in the company of the Court, the deeper the lines beneath his eyes grew, turning black with smudges of blue.

He had more important things to focus on than the health of a man who had _voluntarily_ given himself to the Court of Owls, but he couldn’t bring himself not to check on Ed at least once every couple of days, just to make sure he was still in decent health. 

Try as he might, he couldn’t shake the affinity he’d once had for Ed, nor a feeling that he played some part in his descent. He was completely different now, scarcely resembling the sweet, affable man Jim had known a year prior, but sometimes he said things that were reminiscent of the Edward Nygma that had told him he would ‘write a letter to the boss’ before pulling him into an awkward hug and Jim would feel an involuntary surge of affection.

Often Jim would find himself going over their encounters and wondering what he could have done better, what he could have said or done to _prevent_ Ed from turning into the man he was now. Sometimes he came up with several answers. And sometimes, mercifully, he would remind himself there was no point in dwelling on things he hadn’t done and would never get to do.

He had once told Harvey he would ‘miss Ed if he was gone’, and while it wasn’t true for Harvey, it was certainly true for Jim. He missed the man Ed had once been, and he still cared about him despite the bitterness that had developed between them.

That was why he found it impossible to leave well enough alone when he saw Ed slumped over his desk with his head in his hands. He tried to walk past, and he didn’t managed to get more than a couple of feet before his damned compassion drove him back around.

“Ed.” He cautiously approached the table. “Ed, you okay?”

Ed raised his head just enough to peer up at him. The bags were even more pronounced up close. “Never better.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but the last time you said that, it turned out you’d killed someone,” said Jim wryly.

Edward laughed and wiped at his tired eyes with his thumbs. “There’s been no deaths. Not from me, in any case. I’m just tired.”

“Why?”

“Because I have deadlines to meet, and if I don’t meet them, there will be emphasis on the _dead_ part.”

Jim felt a great dredge of guilt at the thought of Ed being killed. The Court wasn’t known to be merciful, and he’d been the one to deliver Ed to them. “I’ll talk to someone, see if I can get your work load reduced.”

“Don’t. You won’t change anything. This is what I agreed to.”

“They’re threatening your life. You had no choice but to agree to their terms.”

“I got into the car with them,” said Ed. “I wanted answers, and they gave them to me. And this is how I’m to repay that privilege.”

Jim made a sound of exasperation. “You’ll work yourself to death.”

“Does that matter?” Edward irately reached for one of the textbooks piled on the table. “I finally have the answer to my ultimate riddle. There are worse ways to die.”

“Ed…” God, what was he supposed to say to that? He’d always known Ed’s need for answers was a weakness, one he had even utilized, but he hadn’t known it had the capacity to overwhelm Ed’s self-preservation instinct to _this_ degree. He really was going to get himself killed if Jim didn’t intervene.

“I’ll speak to the other members,” he said firmly, leaving no room for argument. “You aren’t gonna die, Ed. Not while I’m here.”

“You shouldn’t be doing this,” muttered Edward, withdrawing his hand from the textbook to frown up at Jim. “We aren’t friends.”

“We were.”

“You didn’t enjoy my company. I could tell.”

“I did,” Jim insisted. “Perhaps I should have shown it better, but I did.”

Edward frown deepened. “I liked your company, too.”

“I could tell.”

“Then it certainly says something that you could tell I liked you, but I couldn’t tell you liked me.”

Jim sighed. “I _just_ said I should have shown it better. What do you want, an apology? You’re not going to get one. You’ve killed nine people.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have killed them if you’d treated me like an actual friend instead of a nuisance.”

A flinch. Both of them, this time, and Edward was quick to hang his head.

“I… I didn’t mean that.”

“You did mean it,” said Jim, but not with malice. He knew, to some degree, how Edward’s mind worked, and he knew Edward had made that comment specifically to target his insecurities. That’s what Ed did; if a conversation wasn’t going his way, he _deflected_.

“I don’t actually believe that,” said Edward quietly.

“No, but you knew saying it would bother me.”

Edward swallowed and his gaze flicked away. “I’m – I’m too tired to deal with this right now, Jim. I need to lie down.” When he attempted to vacate his seat, he wobbled so precariously that Jim instinctively reached out and caught him by the shoulders.

He felt thin, dangerously so. He’d looked thin when sitting next to Jim in the car, but feeling it – that was something else. It was as though he was depriving himself of all nutrition.

Edward wobbled in his grasp. “You need to sleep,” he said, sliding an arm around his back to heave him upright. Edward grunted and sagged into him, but oddly enough, he didn’t resist nor look like he had any desire to. Maybe he hadn’t the strength.

“Where do you sleep?” he asked, his mind conjuring up images of cold, barren, windowless rooms.

Edward gestured to a nearby doorway. “In there.”

With Ed hunched against his chest, he nigh carried the man across the room and to the indicated doorway, peering inside.

It was a small grey room with a cot and an attached bathroom and not much else. Worse than what Jim had been imagining, in fact. It was reminiscent of a prison cell.

It hadn’t occurred to Jim until now, but did Ed qualify as being a prisoner of the Court of Owls? He was certainly being _treated_ like one, even if he had come here of his own volition.

“When did you last sleep a full night?”

“Over a month ago.”

“Jesus, Ed.” He carefully lowered the man onto his bed. “I thought this was _recent_.”

Without even bothering to remove his shoes, Edward curled up on his side and tugged the quilt over his shoulder. Jim sighed and reached beneath the covers to divest his shoes for him.

“I haven’t slept properly since Isabella’s death,” Edward mumbled. He pulled his feet up at the appropriate moment, enabling Jim to slide off his shoes with ease. “Slept even less after… after Oswald.” He audibly swallowed. “The pills helped, but I stopped taking those.”

“The pills?”

“Pills to keep me awake. They made me hallucinate, too, which complicated things.”

Jim pulled off his tie next, then the belt, leaving both items on the bedside table. “You’re getting help when we get out of here, Ed. I don’t really care if you don’t want it; you’re _getting_ it. You’re going to end up killing yourself if you keep on doing this crap.”

“Probably,” Edward agreed with a low chuckle. “But isn’t that a good thing? It’ll make your job easier.”

Jim regarded him dryly. “I’m gonna do you the favour of pretending you didn’t say something that stupid. Now, you need anything else, or are you good?”

Edward tugged the quilt down just enough to unveil his shirt. “Buttons.”

“Really?”

“You offered to help me. If you didn’t want to, you shouldn’t have.”

“Fine.” Jim reached down and started to pop buttons. When his knuckles dragged over bare flesh, he noticed Ed was startlingly warm. How could he be so warm while in such a cold room?

On the last button, he hesitated, pressing the backs of his fingers to Edward’s sweltering skin.

“You’re hot.”

“Didn’t know you swung that way, but thank you, Jim.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Well, I’m not sick, if that’s what you think.”

That was _exactly_ what Jim thought. 

He reached into a jacket pocket, withdrawing two small white pellets and extending them to Edward. “Aspirin. If you are getting sick, these’ll help.” He had been intending to use them should he develop a headache (which he was increasingly prone to doing while in the company of the Court of Owls), but this was a worthy sacrifice.

Edward took them without argument, swallowing them dry. “Is that all, or will you insist on mother henning me for the rest of the evening?”

Mother henning; _not_ something Jim had thought he would ever be accused of.

“Nah, that’s it.” Jim rose to exit the room. “You get some sleep, Ed.”

“Will do, detective.”

* * *

Jim had been right to give him the aspirin, for the next time he saw Edward, Edward was red-faced and hunched over a box of tissues, reaching for one periodically while flipping through the pages of a textbook. 

“’Not sick’, huh?”

His wry comment provoked a glare from Edward. A very ineffective, watery glare.

“Try to restrain your sarcasm until after I’ve recovered.”

“Don’t think I’ll manage,” said Jim, sliding himself onto a corner of Edward’s desk to peering down at his work. He didn’t understand a word of what Edward was studying. “How has the work load been?”

“Reduced,” said Ed tersely. “You had a word with them, I take it?”

“I did say I would.”

“Well…” Edward hesitated. “Thank you, I suppose. I’ve been getting more sleep.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Edward coughed haggardly into a fist, prompting Jim to leap off the desk and put a wide breadth between them. The last thing he needed was to catch a cold. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

Edward wiped his sullied hand with a tissue and shook his head. “I have work to do.”

“You need to sleep.”

“You’re not going to be able to manhandle me there like you did last time. I’ll cough on you.”

“I didn’t manhandle you.”

“Yes you did.”

Edward coughed again, even harder than before, like he was trying to evict his lungs from his chest. It was a horrible sound.

“You’re going to bed, Ed. You look and sound horrible.”

“I’m fine,” Edward insisted and stubbornly hunched down in his seat, presumably to make it harder should Jim try to grab him. Unfortunately for Edward, Jim wasn’t about to be deterred by someone with the approximate weight of a string bean making it moderately harder to transfer him to a different room.

He wrapped an arm around Ed’s torso and easily dragged him out of his chair, hoisting Edward further up his body as he strode for Edward’s bedroom. Despite his earlier threat, Edward didn’t make any attempts to cough on him. He did, however, give his shins a couple of feeble kicks.

“ _This_ is manhandling,” complained Edward.

“Would you rather I carry you bridal style?”

“Yes.”

Jim arched an eyebrow at him. “Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to tell me why, or…?”

“Your grip is making it harder to breathe than it already is. If you’re going to carry me, do it properly.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Jim paused long enough to slide an arm beneath Edward’s legs and lift him in the manner requested. For a man his age and height, he was far too light. “Didn’t notice.”

“I feel a little ridiculous,” said Edward, and he had the courtesy to tilt his head away from Jim as he spoke.

“You asked to be carried like this.”

“I didn’t ask to be carried at all. I simply yielded to your insistence that I had to be carried.”

“Very unusual for you to yield to anything.”

“I’m ill. I don’t have the strength to be my usual degree of belligerent.”

Jim failed to stifle a laugh.

He noticed a miserable chill pervading Edward’s room as he lowered Ed into bed. It was really no wonder Ed was so ill, living in this kind of environment. It couldn’t be good for his lungs to be breathing in such frigid air throughout the night.

Ed didn’t pull the covers over himself this time, and instead stared up at Jim expectantly, presenting his chest and wiggling his feet.

For someone who placed so much value on independence, he certainly acted childish and helpless sometimes.

…It was a _little_ endearing.

He lowered his hands to Edward’s chest, removing Edward’s gaudy pinstriped tie and plucking at the buttons, one after the other. Edward held a scrunched up tissue to his nose while Jim worked.

The belt was next to go, unbuckled and pulled from around narrow hips. Lastly, his shoes, which were untied and dropped at the side of the bed, close enough that Ed would be able to slide into them should he need to pad his way across the stone flooring to use the toilet.

The moment Jim was done, Edward pulled the quilt high up over his body, leaving only his disheveled hair, pink nose, and watery eyes visible.

As an afterthought, Jim withdrew a handful of aspirin from his pocket and dropped them onto the bedside table. It looked like he’d be forgoing them again in the event of a headache.

“Ed.” He waited until Ed was looking at him before he continued. “I’d better not see you out there when I pass your door.”

“Rodger dodger,” he murmured.

That made him pause, and his steps out of the room were slow and stuttering.

* * *

Long after Edward had recovered from his cold, Jim found him asleep at his desk. It was inevitable, really, that he would one day find him like this, but he was surprised it hadn’t happened sooner.

The way he slept was almost comical, with his mouth wide open and drool accumulating beneath his cheek, soaking in the pages of his writing pad. He had one arm draped over thoroughly disheveled hair.

Jim gently pried the paper off of his face and drew Edward into his arms, careful not to jostle him too badly as he carried him across the room.

Edward stirred, just slightly, and pressed his slippery cheek into Jim’s shoulder, groaning softly. He didn’t wake entirely until Jim had lowered him into bed and started pulling off his shoes.

“Jim?” he mumbled, voice hoarse with sleepiness.

“You fell asleep at your desk,” Jim informed him. “You really have to start sticking to a proper sleeping schedule. I can’t keep doing this.” 

Edward didn’t ask Jim for help this time, and he didn’t need to. On instinct alone, Jim removed Edward’s belt and tie and unbuttoned his shirt, knuckles grazing over cool flesh as he worked. Edward wasn’t feverish anymore, which was good, but the cold wasn’t exactly reassuring. Sleep deprivation could disrupt ones thermoregulation.

Before he could withdraw, Edward curled a hand around his wrist and tugged him back down.

“What, Ed?” he asked impatiently.

“Help me with the shirt?”

“I already did.”

“Not entirely.”

“You want me to… remove the shirt for you?”

Edward forced a sleeve into his palm. “Yes.”

“Ed, you’re not a toddler. You can remove your own shirt.”

“What if I say please? _Please_ remove my shirt.”

Jim couldn’t _believe_ he was having this conversation. Why in the world did Edward want to be treated like a child? Like he was _incompetent_? It went against everything Jim knew about him.

It was more out of exasperation than anything else that Jim eventually obliged, gently pulling the shirt out from under Edward and sliding it off his arms. He threw it over a corner of the bedside table.

“Happy?”

“Yes,” said Edward, burrowing himself beneath his quilt. “That will be all, Jim,” he added, dismissing Jim like one would a servant.

Jim left the room feeling rather irate.

* * *

It was getting to be ridiculous how many times Jim ended up transferring Ed from his desk to his bedroom. And somehow, despite having two fully functioning arms, Ed would need him to remove his tie, belt, shirt, and shoes before he would go to sleep. If he didn’t, Edward would pull the covers over his fully clothed body and attempt to sleep like that. The sight of his shoes peeking out from beneath the blanket was generally enough to make Jim relent.

On the other hand, Jim wasn’t making much of an effort to protest. If he was honest, he actually kind of liked being able to care for another person in this manner; it made him feel in control in an environment where he had little control to speak of.

He was to maintain a positive public image, as per the Court’s request, and this meant he was still able to attend work and have the occasional beer with Harvey, but he knew the Court was watching him from afar and scrutinizing his every action. Their vigilance made it impossible to feel at ease.

Except here and now, with Edward. Who was the last person Jim should feel at ease with, considering their history, but as sleep deprived and malnourished as Edward was, he didn’t pose much of a threat anymore. He wouldn’t have been able to fight off a ten year old, let alone a fully grown man.

Sometimes he did try to be physically imposing, however, usually by curling a hand around Jim’s wrist to ensure he didn’t leave.

Which, coincidentally, was exactly what he was doing now.

It wasn’t a tight grip and Jim could have dislodged him with ease, but he opted to let Edward have the allusion of control.

“What is it this time, Ed?” he asked patiently.

Edward simply guided his hand to his chest and glided it over a pert nipple, watching Jim all the while, his face faintly red.

Jim’s heart jumped into his throat.

“What are you doing?” he choked, and yet he didn’t remove his hand. He let Ed push it even lower, over the dips and ridges of his rib cage.  

“Don’t you want to do this?” asked Edward, sounding incredibly innocent despite the circumstances. “You’ve never thought about it?”

“ _No_.” And he truly hadn’t; he wasn’t the sort of person who fantasized about other men. He’d never even considered another man sexually until – until _now_.

He was most definitely thinking of Edward sexually right now.

It was hard not to while his hand was been made to descend lower and lower, over the flat expanse of Edward’s stomach and past the dip of his bellybutton.

“Have…” He paused. “Have _you_ been thinking about this?”

“For a while now, actually, but it’s nice of you to finally notice my interest.”

His hand was getting awfully low.

“Why would you want to do this with me?”

“You’re attractive and we’re both lonely. Do I need more reason than that?”

“You think I’m attractive?”

“I like your eyes,” said Edward quietly. “They’re very blue.”

The descent had stopped just short of Ed’s waistline. To Jim’s chagrin, he found himself feeling disappointed.

He couldn’t deny that Ed was a rather attractive man despite his slight build. If he was going to sleep with any villain, well…

“Will this be a one-time thing?” he asked, toeing off his shoes and fumbling with his belt buckle with his free hand.

“If you want it to be.”

“Alright, then.”

He just needed to get it out of his system, that was all. Jim was no stranger to one night stands. He’d had many a fling with people – peers, co-workers, friends, etcetera – throughout his life, and other than the fact this one was with a man, it would be no different.

He threaded his fingers into Edward’s hair and drew him up for a kiss. He wanted to know what it felt like.

* * *

He was right to categorize his night with Ed as a fling in some respects; it had been fast, hot, and satisfying, and little had changed between him and Ed despite the event.

But unlike a fling, the sexual tension didn’t simply drain away. At least, not for Jim, who was having a hard time convincing himself he didn’t want to sleep with Edward again each time they interacted. It was getting ridiculous, the thought of Ed’s flushed face plaguing him day and night. He felt like a teenage boy with a crush, but even his childhood infatuations had been more dignified than this.

And it wasn’t just thoughts of sex, either; he thought about them being together in much the same way he’d thought about Lee prior to their coupling. He thought about silly things like chatting over coffee (what kind of coffee did Ed like? Black? Milky? Sweet?) or what it would be like to wake up in the morning to Ed’s version of breakfast (which would undoubtedly be delicious, because he knew Ed was talented in the kitchen).

He didn’t want to think about or feel these things. He knew it was wrong.No matter how much he liked Edward, Edward was still a criminal. A murderer. There was no place for a romantic relationship to develop between them.

But it was excruciatingly hard to ignore his feelings when he was still carrying Ed to bed every other day, and every time, without fail, Edward would ask that Jim remove his clothes.

Jim had even taken to removing his trousers for him, _without_ prompting. His heart raced every time he caught sight of Ed’s milky white thighs. He had gripped them in his palms some days ago, and they had been slippery and warm as he’d pushed them down- but he shouldn’t think about that, because he usually had to relieve himself in the privacy of his bathroom when he did.

Often Ed would smile in a way that suggested he knew _exactly_ what he was doing to Jim, and Jim wished he didn’t have so much self-control, because he would have loved to turn that expression into something quite different.

As had been the one to call their coupling a ‘one-time event’, Edward reciprocating his lingering interest was the last thing on Jim’s mind.

Which made it surprising when Ed rose out of his chair one day and planted a chaste kiss on his lips, striding past him before he could orientate himself enough to respond.

He turned to watch Ed retrieve something from the top shelf of a bookcase.

“What was _that_?” he asked. Or, well, _demanded_.

Edward didn’t look at him. “I thought you might like a kiss, so I gave you one.”

“That’s your _only_ reason for doing that?”

“Mmm.” Ed tilted his head this way and that, as though considering the question, but he didn’t answer.

Jim made a swift approach. “You’ve been _teasing_ me _all week_.”

“Have I?” asked Edward with a playful little grin.

“Don’t play games with me, Ed.”

“But you like my games.”

Jim stepped into Ed’s personal space, closer and closer, until Ed was backed into the bookcase, a textbook clutched in his hands. He peered at Jim through his lashes, a distinctly sultry look. Though he still looked very tired and worn, it didn’t detract from his appeal at all.

“Didn’t you mention something about our earlier _interaction_ being a one night sort of thing?”

“What can I say, Ed? You’re a persuasive man.”

“Yes, that _is_ one of my many talents.”

Jim reached down and ran his palms over Edward’s sides. Edward shivered.  

“You want to make this a two-night stand, then?” asked Jim, trying to be casual. He wasn’t sure how successful he was considering his grip had a slight tremor to it.

Edward leaned into him, flush against his chest. “Get on with it then, detective.”

“Gladly.”

* * *

He visited Ed with increasing regularity after their last encounter. He found excuses to do it, even if only for a few minutes at a time. The Court was stagnant at the moment so he hadn’t many obligations to worry about. Their plans weren’t to be set in motion for some months and Jim had already set up counter plans (as well as several contingency plans) to stop them.

“So, how much longer am I going to be here?” asked Edward.

Jim was currently sprawled out on Edward’s bed, shirtless, with Edward draped over his chest. There wasn’t enough room for them to lie side by side. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not stupid, Jimmy,” said Ed, tracing a finger over a sharp edge of Jim’s collarbone. “I know you’re only working with the Court so you can take them down from the inside out. So how long is it going to take?”

“That isn’t the sort of thing we should be discussing here,” he replied in a murmur.

Edward snorted. “You think I’d bring it up if I thought they could hear us? I check every corner of this room for devices when I wake up and I have yet to find anything.”

Jim glanced at the ceiling regardless, checking each corner for something suspicious. He didn’t expect the Court would utilize cameras; those were too bulky, too conspicuous, but speakers? He wouldn’t put it past them to use those, though hopefully his and Ed’s… _activities_ would have driven them to disabling the connection by now, if there was indeed one.

When he didn’t find anything, he resumed watching Edward’s long fingers dance over his chest. “I could get you out sooner, if that’s what you want.”

“And I’d end up being sent straight to prison, I assume?”

“No.” Jim reached up to brush a few strands of hair out of Ed’s eyes. “You’d be better off getting help _outside_ Gotham. This city just makes things worse.”

“You’re not wrong about that,” murmured Edward. “I’d have to stick around for the finale, though. I rather like the Court; they’re very _interesting_ , but I shan’t miss their downfall for anything.”

“So, you _will_ leave Gotham?” asked Jim.

“I will, but I have terms.”

Jim frowned. “What terms?”

“I want you to come with me.”

Jim could tell Edward was being serious, and that worried him.

He had a job, he had social obligations. He couldn’t just go off on a road trip on whim.

He opened his mouth to respond, but Edward got there first. “Two weeks. Maybe even just _one_ , if you insist upon it. That’s all I’m asking. You’ve spent more time off work than that in the past.”

“In this current climate, that’s… asking a lot, Ed.”

“Fine, I can wait until you’re ready to leave,” said Edward, sounding a touch desperate. “But I need you to go with me.”

“ _Why_?”

“Because if I try doing this alone, I know I won’t make it. Jim, this…” He pressed his palms to his eyes. “This is the most cognizant I’ve been in weeks. Oswald made me feel this way too, and I’m – I’m starting to think I actually _need_ people to be grounded.”

“Yeah, that is generally the case for everyone, Ed.” Jim gently pried Edward’s hands away from his face, squeezing them briefly before letting them go. “If everything goes smoothly, I’ll do it. I’ll take a week or so off of work so I can accompany you to… wherever.”

Edward visibly relaxed. “I honestly thought you’d say no.”

“So did I,” admitted Jim. “Guess I like you more than I expected.”

“You ought to. We’ve slept together at least five times by now.” He offered Jim a devious twist of his lips. “And we’re going to have an awful lot of free time while on that road trip, so I expect that number to increase.”

Having an army background, Jim wasn’t the sort of person to blush at such comments; he’d heard far worse… but he would be lying if he said his cheeks didn’t warm just a little. “Keep in mind that I’m going with you to get you _help_ , Ed.”

“And when we get back home, I’ll consent to being put in a mental health facility and so on, so forth. I got it.”

“Good.” Jim coiled his arms around Edward’s torso, holding him close as he reverse their positions. Once Ed was flat on the mattress, Ed lifted his legs and wrapped them around his waist, tugging him closer.

“You can drive, by the way. Driving long distances is tedious.”

“Thanks, Ed,” he said dryly. “That’s real generous of you.”

Jim didn’t know if this - _any_ of this, particularly the attempt at a relationship with Ed, would work out the way he wanted it to. But even if it didn’t, he wouldn’t stop trying.

He’d never been very good at leaving things alone. His father would have respected that.


End file.
